


Your Call

by DeathSymphony



Category: World Trigger
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-09 23:44:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7821853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathSymphony/pseuds/DeathSymphony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mark usually appears after teenage years, when a person’s personality had taken an almost definite shape. They were branded on each person’ skin in brilliant red, embossed like a scar.</p><p>Osamu Mikumo had his at birth. They tell him that he was one of those rare cases, that he was as unique as his mark. Growing up, he realizes that it may be true. In some cases.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Guess What I've been reading the past week. Haven't finished it yet because, reasons.
> 
> Narration. What a pain the butt you are but I heard you're necessary for writing so...  
> Shitty narration ahead! (I mean it)

 

Osamu was four when his mother told him about soul marks.

They sat in front of her huge mirror, his right shoulder bare to show the blazing red mark on the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

He stares at it curiously, not daring to touch it with how sore it looked. The whispered encouragement of his mother gave him the confidence to reach up and gently trace it with a finger. It was a crescent moon with two lines circling it, sort of reminded him of planets.

Osamu marvels at the way a single color could be so different, counts the small red dots peppered along the lines; memorizes the almost full circle stationed at the center. He takes it all in as Kasumi watched him fondly.

 “It’s very beautiful, isn’t it? You’ve had it since birth.” She says as Osamu turns to look at her. “The doctor said you’re one of those rare cases who got their mark right at birth.”

His nose was adorably scrunched up so she taps it with a finger, startling him into dropping his frown, “What does that mean, mom?”

“No one really knows, Osamu. It’s different for everyone.” Kasumi rolls her sleeves up to her shoulders, revealing a small bright red feather. “I got mine two years before I met your father. I was sixteen.”

Realization dawns on his face as his eyes sparkle with interest, “You two had the same mark?”

“Yes.” Kasumi smiles as she remembers the way they’d met, unconsciously narrating the event to her son.

_Papers flying around in a parody of the romantic cherry blossom rain scene, crooked glasses, sweaty face, a small, bright red feather under his left thumb and the warmth and glee that rushed through her every nerve._

 The feeling of small fingers tightening around her shirt makes her look at her child. He was silent, staring at a spot on the floor, just as he always did when he was thinking about something deeply.

“Osamu.” She gently taps his smooth, chubby cheeks, bringing his attention back to her. “My mother used to say that the soul mark is just the Gods’ way of telling us that someone out there is a person who we will cherish more than anyone. They could be a family or your most important friend or the person who you’ll be with forever.”

Osamu peers outside, showing rows and rows of houses, of people milling about outside before he looks back at his mother, green eyes bright with anxiety and wonder.

“…Forever? Like you and daddy?” Osamu asks, eyes drawn to the bright red mark on her arm.

Kasumi smiles brightly, “Yes, like me and daddy.”

“Then I’ll meet him after two years?!” Osamu jerks, almost falling backwards if not for the firm grip Kasumi had on him. She laughs before ruffling his hair.

“Maybe. Didn’t I tell you that it’s different for everyone? It could be in two years or you could meet them when you’re all grown up. How do you even know it’s a _he_?”

“I don’t know, I just do…” His shoulders fall as if in disappointment but the bright smile he gives her tells Kasumi otherwise “That’s fine! At least I have plenty of time to grow up and be more responsible. Daddy always told me to not take life for granted and to always, _always_ make sure you’re alright. So I’ll do the same for mine!”

He was brimming with so much enthusiasm and Kasumi hadn’t seen him like that other than that time his father created a bridge out of wooden blocks. Her heart warms with love and pride, both for her son and her husband. She drops a kiss on his forehead and cradles his body to hers. Osamu giggles from where his head was cradled at the crook of her neck, making him smile a bit wider.

“I’m sure, Osamu, anyone would be proud to have you as their half because I already do.”

“I’ll do my best!”

It was years later that Osamu learns that it wasn’t quite the fairytale that everyone makes it out be.

* * *

Osamu was eight when he feels a force in his gut.

The plate he’d been washing shatters to pieces as he staggers backwards before falling on the floor, followed immediately by his mother’s worried cry.

He grabs his stomach as another wave of pain hits, he just breathes and breathes as if he could never take in enough air into his system but that wasn’t right because he _could_ breathe.

And just as abruptly as it started, it had ended.

He blinks in confusion, blinks away the tears he didn’t know he’d shed. His mother was immediately at his side, carefully taking his hands, now dripping blood from where he’d fallen right into the shattered pieces of glass. He looks at his mother’s face, blurry because of the wet smudge on his glasses but he could tell she was worried.

Before Osamu could utter a word, he was enveloped by a warm hug and the familiar peach scent of his mother, “Oh Osamu. I never thought… It’s okay, I got you now.”

He exhales slowly as he allows her to calm him down and burrows himself deeper in her embrace. “Mom, w-what was—“

“Osamu.” He almost protests when his mom lets go of him to grab his shoulders firmly and look him in the eye, “Do you remember what I told you about soul marks?”

“I—Yes, m-my classmates been talking—talking about it nonstop this past f-few months. Some of them got their m-marks and they’ve been fan-fantasizing about how—how they would meet them, that they—“ Osamu can’t stop rambling, Kasumi understands, for a child so young to _feel._ She’d never thought her own son would experience it so early in life.

“Honey, calm down.” She rests his head on her shoulders once more, rubbing his back in gentle motions and waits until he’d quieted down, “Osamu… You see, when your other half experiences great pain, you will feel… an _echo_ of what they feel.”

“An—an echo… of p-pain.” Tears form in his eyes once more; he wraps his arms around his mother to stop the quaking in his bones. He opens his mouth as he tries to make words but they elude him like fish to hands and all he could think about was pain, pain, pain, _death._

Osamu heaves a shuddering breath as he forces himself to talk, “Is he—d-dead?”

“No, Osamu.” Kasumi replies quickly, taking his face into her hands and starts wiping his tears away before pointing at his collarbone. “Your mark’s still the same color, see. So they’re still alive. They’ll be fine Osamu, they probably got into an accident.”

He takes a large silver spoon and squints to see his reflection. Sure enough, the bright red mark was there, blurry and unrecognizable but there. It calms him somewhat but it doesn’t lessen the heaviness in his gut.

“How do I know, mom?”Osamu squeezes out, still staring at the bright red color on the metal’s surface. “How can I tell?”

Kasumi was quiet for a bit and as he glances at her with pleading eyes, she sighs and answers quietly, “When it turns dark. That’s how you know, Osamu.” She gently threads her fingers along his silky black hair offering as much comfort as she could. “But that won’t be happening anytime soon. _You’ve_ got to believe that _more_ than anyone else.”

Osamu turns to look at his reflection once again before his eyes strays downward.

 _It will be alright._ He tells himself. _Red. As long as it’s red._

It was as brilliantly red as the blood dripping from his hand.        

Until it wasn’t.

He was eleven years old.

* * *

The year when he was eleven was the definition of hell for Osamu. His parents would have had a similar answer if asked.

He felt like a ghost living in someone else’ body. His parent’s would have compared him to a comatose patient with eyes wide open.

The pain he’d felt that day; on his left eye, his abdomen, his arm and leg. It was like life slipping from his fingers. It had lasted for minutes. Minutes too long that his parents had called an ambulance and they took him to the hospital. He’d fainted just as the tell-tale sound of a medical car nears them.

Nurses fussed over him, doctors came and went.

He didn’t take any of it in. From the blazing hot pain on his right shoulder, right at the point of where his mark should be, even without a spoon to look at, he already knew.

But that still didn’t stop him from hoping.

He jumped from the hospital bed and raced to the nearest surface he could see himself in. He’d ripped two buttons in his haste to look at his shoulder and there it was.

 _It’s okay._ He’d told himself, _As long as it’s red._

“It isn’t the same brilliant red anymore but that’s okay, right?” He asked no one in particular, still staring at his shoulder. “I mean…It looks—looks _b-b-better._ Not as sore anymore.”

He’d like to believe but the colors he’d come to love was all wrong. The dots were more of a pink color but now they were red, the moon was darker, the lines… They were all wrong but…

“As long as it’s red. I know at least twelve shades of red.” He tries to recite them but can’t, “It isn’t even anywhere as near as the dark-darkest shade I know, so it’s fine right? It’s red. He’s _not_ dead. _It’s red._ ”

_It’s red._

_Red._

_Red._

_Red._

The room quiets down after that. His father had politely asked everyone to go out when the whispers started; his mother had cried silently with him and gently assured him as his father hugged them as tightly as he could.

He cried, of course. He’d cried so much. Cried himself to sleep and cried himself awake. He’d cried for days. He’d avoided mirrors like the plague. Didn’t even look at any reflective surfaces and locked himself in his room, tracing his mark until it irritated his skin.

His parents had taken to asking various soul mark specialists but not one knew the reason nor even give an explanation. They would have taken anything they’d said, any source of relief would have been fine, instead—

 _It’s the first time we’d heard of this,_ they’d said.

_He had it since birth?_

_How remarkable!_

_Has he experience these sort of pain ever since he got his mark?_

_If you would just let us observe him more, we could help you._

Some of them had insisted to ‘observe’ him some more, it was at that time that Kasumi stopped asking them for anything while his father threatened to call a lawyer.

It was all a mess.

If Osamu had been more responsive back then, more aware and not just staring into space while his finger relentlessly traced his mark, he would have blamed himself (maybe he would have even done things to his body that he would have given his parents a lifetime of disappointment for)

Their family had been riding the grapevine for days on end until Kasumi caught wind of it and put a stop to it (It had sparked a tense atmosphere around their neighborhood) His father went to work in the barest of time he could and never accepted work outside the city, never mind the country.

The bullying definitely didn’t help. His parents had gotten into fights with a lot of the children’s parents, guardians, and teachers alike that they had agreed to take him out of that elementary school and out of that town for good.

They moved to Mikado City, hoping that place could give him a fresh start.

It did, almost a year later, when Rinji Amatori became his private tutor.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I can't believe i'm here again after I bombed my other fics. Let's just hope this won't end up as bad (or abandoned) Feel free to point out errors


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just finished the manga and I must say, this manga is very straight to the point huh; barely any behind the scenes aka down time aka fanservice. lol. No really, 
> 
> No wonder, there's not much fanarts. I might have damned myself to shipping this new ship of mine. Lord, help me.
> 
> But I'm loving World Trigger. I haven't read anything like it just yet. It has this realistic feel to it, huh?

Life in Mikado City was easy despite the news saying otherwise. Of the monsters that’s supposed to be terrifying the city. Kasumi hadn’t seen them yet, face to face, except for those commercials with the red-clad teen group promoting Border.

Child soldiers, she’d like to call them. They couldn’t be that much older than her son, could they? She wonders what their parents think of it, their children fighting war for them.

Despite that, people around them lived just as normally and thus it was easy to fall down to their rhythm.

Osamu, on the other hand, couldn’t be said the same but she’d expected it. Kasumi was nothing if not patient and he did get better, but if there was one major factor as to why, it was definitely _that_ man.

Rinji Amatori.

Ever since she’d hired him as his home tutor, Osamu had been getting a bit better. He moves, he talks, eats more. Goes out more.

She’d once asked how Rinji did it. All he said was _‘Nothing out of the ordinary.’_

If this man wasn’t helping his son, she would have smacked that mouth of his with her handy pouch but if her husband heard of it, she would be up all night being scolded through the wee hours of the afternoon.

That and he was taking good care of Osamu, so she did pardon him.

Not that Kasumi doesn’t like it, but it could have been better, especially if her son could just come back one day without wounds on his arms or a bruise on his face.

Her son had always been a polite and gentle child; knows how to value and respect life; could be stubborn at times, shy at others.

Kasumi would know, he was her son after all, and she is proud of him.

But now, as she welcomes her son home from school, sees what she expects wouldn’t be there, she could not help but feel the waves and waves of worry that assaults her each night.

“I-I’m home, mom.” As expected, Osamu already feels the tense atmosphere. With his ever observant nature he already knows the tenseness in her shoulders, the deep breath she takes. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“I could see why.” The face he makes was occurring more and more this days and Kasumi steels herself to keep their eyes locked. Maybe Osamu could understand the storm raging inside her. “Welcome back. Dinner’s ready, so go freshen yourself up. Do you want me to help you?”

“Oh, no. I’ll be fine.” He looks relieved as he flees from the front door and up the stairs. “Thanks, mom. I’ll be just a bit.”

“Take your time.” She mutters as the sound of the door meeting its frame reverberates upstairs.

It took him only a few minutes, when back then he couldn’t even apply gauze properly. The large bruise on his face was already covered, the cuts cleaned and glistening with balm.

She knows not what she must feel. In a way she could understand, after all, her husband had also gone through some dangerous situations himself but she’d never felt the same agony her son feels. 

To keep being reminded that the person with the same mark as his was suffering and yet here he was, having an easy life; being the compassionate person that Osamu was, she could only imagine the guilt he could be feeling.

So she knows what Osamu is doing. She knows what all this was for.

Helping others simply because he can’t help that one person he’d really want to help; substituting them for that person just so he could lessen the guilt.

Her heart aches for them, this person who holds the other half of her son’s soul and more so for his son but to think that something like this was destined for her child, she doesn’t know what to feel.

As a mother, she wouldn’t want them. But as someone with a mark, she’d want them to meet.

It was the first time she’d seen someone be so affected by their mark and the way she sees it, the yearning was unmistakable with every glances on mirrors, every touch on his shoulder.

In a way she blames herself for this.

If she hadn’t talk as if the mark was something special, something important to be able to have a good life. Would everything be different? Would the brightness in her child’s eyes never dimmed?

Were they older? Younger? Same age? There was no way of knowing. No matter the age it still brings a sense of anxiousness to her. How would she know if her son would be safe or not?

Because at some point when they meet, wouldn’t their life, their fate be intertwined? And what life would that be? Whose would be more affected? Whose path would they follow?

She looks up just in time to see the tell tale sign of a phantom pain on her son’s face.

The slight twitch on his brow and the way he tenses his shoulders.

She knows that, in a while, he’ll be reaching up to his right shoulder where the mark is.

In those moments, her maternal instincts weighed more than anything else.

“Have I told you before?” She starts and watches as he slowly drops his hand from his shoulder and for the life of her, she doesn’t know why he looks guilty. “About my parents.”

“Grandma and grandpa… You’ve mentioned before that grandma passed away at the age of fifty five while grandpa died at sixty.”

“I told you that when you were four. You still remember?” She smiles at him, staining his cheeks red, “That’s amazing.”

“No. It’s important to you so…” He trails off, putting a carrot in his mouth, “The photographs helped. She looked just like you.”

She smiles a bit wider, “But I digress. I meant to tell you about their mark.”

“Mark?”

“Yes, have I mentioned that they didn’t have the same mark? They weren’t soulmates.” Osamu remains silent. There was interest in his eyes and at the same time, confusion. “My dad’s soulmate passed away without him meeting them. Then he met mom. Mom already met hers; in fact, dad met them both the first time.” She pauses and tries to make out what Osamu is thinking but couldn’t.

“Um…” The sweat on his forehead was that much more pronounced and just as he was opening his mouth she continues.

“Mom and dad fell in love of course, in time. But she and her soulmate stayed close. They were partners and even started a business out of the one thing they both like the most.”

“Business partners…” He echoes, playing with a piece of broccoli before he looks at her with wide eyes. “You mean, Aunt Mei? She was grandma’s soulmate?”

“Yes. Even when my parents were here, she was like a second mother so when mom died, she easily handled the responsibility despite having her own family.”

“So that’s why… ” He mutters, before looking back down at his plate.

Kasumi takes a deep breath before continuing, “Dad said that he used to fantasize about the mark but when he felt it, the echo, it was like his life darkened with his mark. Like he’d somehow failed at something but when he fell in love with mom, he realized that the mark is there not as a gift but a choice. He may have never met that person but mom was more than he’d ever thought he’d have. I admired that about them when I was younger.”

When she finished, the only sound in the room was the clinking of her utensils against the ceramic plate; the tense atmosphere was more palpable than before. She waits silently, stealing glances at her son who sits stiffly in front of her.

“Mom.”He starts slowly, ”I… It’s not that I’m not happy to hear that but…” He puts down his spoon and pushes the plate away. Clearly, his appetite was lost, “Why are you telling me this?”

She does the same and stares at him right in the eye. “You don’t have to force yourself too much, Osamu.”

He jerks back from his seat, eyes wide and staring right at her. She eyes the cold sweat that slid down his temples, reminding her briefly of her husband.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“I think you do.” Osamu flinches and she thinks briefly that her voice might have come out sharper that she meant to. “I don’t like what you’re doing to yourself. You’ve helped people before but this is too much. This is on the verge of idiocy.”

“Mo-mom.”

She didn’t like this for his son anymore than any mother out there. She didn’t know how to bring it up back then but now she could and all she wanted was to understand. “You may be coming home with just bruises and cuts but what if that’s not enough anymore? What if someday you come home bloodied? What if you never came home? Saying sorry is not enough. Do you want me to ground you? Because I would, for the rest of your life.”

“Mom, please calm down…” He stands and easily rounds the table to come to her side; it is then that she notices the wetness on her own eyes. “I didn’t realize how much I was worrying you. I thought you… No, I’ve been selfish.”

“Yes, you were.” She intones. Gently, she takes the hand sitting on her shoulder and cradles it in both her hands, “What is this, Osamu? What are you really doing? Ever since you shook off your depression, you’ve been going out more and coming back like this. Are you punishing yourself? Is that it? Are you substituting others for them?”

“What? Mom!” He looks appalled at the very idea but that merely gave her little relief. “That’s no—“ Osamu falls down heavily on the seat beside her, staring intently on the floor in between them. His hand was clammy in between hers, shaking faintly, so she grips it a bit more tightly.

“Actually… That might be true, mom. I never saw it as punishing myself but I see how you got to that conclusion.” She inhales deeply but doesn’t say a thing, hanging on to his words to try and get into his mind.

“It may be true… At first. I wanted to understand how someone like me could have someone like him as my half when I’ve never really experienced the same oppressive life he seems to have. What is it that makes us the same that someone saw fit to brand us together? I just kept asking myself questions.

“So when one day I saw someone being beaten up by some gang on an alley, I thought _‘what if that’s what’s happening to him?’_ and then _‘could that guy’s soulmate feel the same as he does? Like I do mine?’_ so I helped them so that maybe one day, when I found him I could help him too. Just as you said mom…

“But it wasn’t the same as when I was a child. They were bigger. Stronger. They don’t hold back and the pain stays for days. That’s when I realized how weak I was… but more than that.”

His voice finally breaks just as a tear slides down his face. “More… than that. With every echo of his pain that I feel. I realized that, he doesn’t need me to help him, mom. He’s tough.” Osamu pushes his clothes away to reveal his mark, darker than it was before everything but its beauty was all that much more pronounced. Still very much unique; the change merely contributed to the same mystery it had come with, “He’s holding on. So I will too, mom. I just can’t choose. For me, there’s no other option.”

His hand flies to his neck, pain flashing on his eyes.

“I don’t really know what’s happening. I mean with all the pain I feel from him, there’s no way he could still be alive, right? So I thought maybe it was a health condition, bone-glass disease or something. Rinji-san said that it could also possibly be psychological or maybe he simply wasn’t human.” He laughs a bit and tries to stop his tears, “Rinji-san always had an odd sense of humor but he’s been helping me research on his free time, Chika as well.”

“So you see mom. I’m not substituting anyone for anything when I help people. I do it for myself. When I see someone hurt, I remember myself and the echoes I feel and helping them is just the right thing to do.”

“The right thing to do, you say…” She murmurs.

“Yes and…” He paused to take a deep breath; there was intensity in his eyes when he finally looks at her. “… I think I know what I want to be.”

“…A doctor, is it?”

He smiles and nods, “Yes. I realized that I’ve been fighting the wrong battle when Rinji-san gave me a list of possible illnesses. I never knew there was so much, we’re analyzing them and trying to narrow it down to what it really is but we haven’t had much luck.”

“The human mind and body is a vast subject. The discoveries are never ending. But if that’s what you want then I’ll help when I can as well.” His appreciation and relief was evident in the way his green eyes lit up, something she hadn’t seen for quite a long time.

“Discoveries, huh.” He lifts his glasses back up from where it slid down the bridge of his nose, looking quite pensive. “Maybe it’s a new sort of disease. What if it wasn’t discovered yet? That’s bad isn’t it? Could he be living his life inside a laboratory or something? Or maybe he doesn’t have that option and he’s just lying around waiting for help? That’s not possible is it? People can’t be _that_ bad, right? Where _is_ he even?”

“Osamu, calm down.” Was it weird of her to feel relieved? Seeing him panicking was very much like him, “You said it yourself didn’t you? He’s tough. You should be—“

“Believe in him more.” He cuts, smiling gently. “Yes. You’re right, mom.”

“You should do what you can for now.” She ruffles his hair gently, it’s gotten long, almost pass his shoulder. She should cut it soon. “I’d like it if you were to talk to me more. You know, I’m starting to get jealous of this relationship you have with the Amatori family. I’m your mother, you know.”

Osamu smiles timidly, “Mom, it’s not that I’m forgetting about you. I just thought that when you knew I was focusing on my mark all this time, you’ll get angry. I guess I was right since you’ve been thinking about that all this time.”

“Why would you think that?”

Osamu fidgets on his seat, “Well, you…”

“I?” She prompted.

“You’ve been—glaring—at my mark ever since…”

“Ah. I did not realize. I apologize but you must understand that as a mother, I wouldn’t want to see my child suffering and right now—No, back then, you were. And I know that it was because of your mark so I must have done it unconsciously.”

 “It’s okay mom, I sort of understand. I’m sorry, too.”

“I’m your mother. Of course, I forgive you. But that doesn’t mean there’s no punishment for this sort of behavior.”

“P-punishment?”

“Yes. After we’re done, wash the dishes.”

“But… I always do that?”

“And from now on,” She continues unbothered, “Tell me what you’re doing and if you find them— _him_ … even just a possibility, then please tell me as soon as you can.”

“Yes, mom. I’m sorry for leaving you out.”

She smiles, her chest feeling a bit lighter, “As long as you understand.”

“Uhm…” He starts as he fidgets with his glasses, Kasumi stops him and dries his tears with a piece of table napkin.

“Yes?”

“What you just told me… Were they true?”

She dabs at his eyes one last time before answering, “Do you doubt me?”

“No! It’s just… It would have been nice to talk with them.”

“Well, Aunt Mei is coming over next week. You could talk to her then. She won’t mind.”

“Really?” Kasumi wonders why she never started this conversation earlier, seeing him like this brings back memories of when he was a child, “Then you’re definitely making meat pies, right? Can I help, please?”

Kasumi mock sighs, “I suppose, I still have to teach you how not to burn anything in an oven.”

She smiles as she watches his cheeks gain color, all the while muttering about how, “It was one time. Okay, maybe three, but that plastic tray was _not_ my fault. That was dad.”

“Also,” Osamu looks up at her, chewing slowly, “There might have been a lie there but that’s a talk for later.”

Osamu smiles and nods his understanding.

Compassion, humility, honesty, fairness. Traits any parent would want for their child. And yet… She still couldn’t erase that large bubble on her head.

Almost a year and a half later, Rinji Amatori disappears and in Osamu’s path, a fork appears: either to learn how to fight or to learn how to heal.

He chose to join border.

Kasumi almost thought that they just went back to square one but the way that Osamu dedicatedly spends his time equally at home, reading all those medical books, training at border and yet still have passing marks at school told her that everything would be fine.

All she could do was to support and have faith in him and watch as it all enfolds.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna watch the anime soon. Probably.
> 
> This chapter feels empty. I don't know why. Well, I did my best, maybe i'll edit this in the future but most probably I wont. Gotta live with my mistakes huh.
> 
> Also Osamu, good luck with the trial and error.
> 
> Next chapter Kuga!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! After tears and sweat (Like lots of sweat, dammit, It's so hot in my country right now) I finally wrote something I like (T-T ') I didn't like what I initially wrote. So i kept rewriting it and now, ta-dah! hope you readers like it too.
> 
> I'm currently at episode 22 of the anime and I'm enjoying it so much. But why is the way Osamu's drawn so inconsistent?

The stairs spiral up forever and he takes the steps one at a time, there wasn’t any need to hurry. Not anymore.

He glides his hands along the cold walls, feeling the evidence of times pass. He’d gone up the very same steps a lot of times that the crumbled, uneven steps never bothered him anymore nor the various cracks and bloodstains along the walls.

They tell a story, something he’d personally been a part of.

A strong gust of wind greeted him when he opens the door and he breathes it in as he marches on, feeling the wind ruffle his hair every which way. He sits on the highest ledge and looks down to a familiar scene.

Outside, smoke wafted through various points of the city. Even from where he was, he could hear the barked orders from different squad captains as they all ran about assessing and fixing damages. Little children scattered around trying to help only to be pulled back by an adult. From somewhere his eyes couldn’t see, he could hear laughter as they celebrated their hard-earned victory.

It was a different sort of chaos and he liked this more than the familiar heavy atmosphere that had plagued the whole country for years.

It had taken them a lot of sacrifices for the war to be resolved but they’d won. The treaty signed and delivered. Or he’d hope so. He was given the choice not to attend the meeting so he didn’t and even if he wasn’t, he never would have paid any attention. In the end, Replica would give him a summary of what the adults had talked about.

The most important thing was that the country was still in their protection. They were free and so was he. At least, from the many shackles he’d put on himself.

Behind him, the door creaks open and from the heavy footfalls, he knows who it was already.

“You didn’t show up for lunch. The other two were looking for you.” Raymond says in lieu of a greeting, he leans on the wall beside Yuma overlooking the same scenery the other sees.

Yuma glances at him. He looks peaceful, the wrinkles around his eyes had lessened somewhat. Given that the war had ended, he just thinks it’s fitting. “Did they need me for something?”

“Yuma.” Raymond turns to him with a dissatisfied expression. “It doesn’t mean they need something just because they’re looking for you. They merely wanted to spend some more time with you before you go.”

Yuma looks away from his piercing gaze, “It’s not like I’m leaving right away. Replica said we need a bit more trion before we could go; he’s collecting right now as we speak.” He raises his hand, indicating his black trigger where Replica was currently residing in. “Maybe a day or two more?”

The older man stares at it before shifting his eyes back down, “So you’re really going? To your father’s homeland.”

“Yeah.” Yuma was careful to keep his eyes up the clouds, “Well, dad told me to even way before he died.”

His companion shifts a bit. Yuma had lost a father but he was a friend too, wasn’t he? Raymond was a good guy and there was one time where he’d said _“It’s not your fault, if I hadn’t—“_

They’d reach a silent understanding though and action spoke more than words ever did. Yuma took up the promise his dad had given them while Raymond kept a watchful eye on him both in and out of battle.

“I’d say you could stay here as long as you want but it looks like you’ve made up your mind.” The other says after a while. “We could generate the gate for you. I’ll talk to the council—“

“No need.” Yuma cuts in, bringing up a hand to point down below, “You have a lot of things to mend and those would take a lot of trion. We’ll be fine; my partner’s working on it.” Also, Yuma didn’t think that they would waste that much trion just for him and even if they did, it wouldn’t be out of kindness but because Raymond argued them to it.

Raymond lets out a resigned sigh, scratching his chin thoughtfully, “Fine. But it will be a long journey. I’ll see the things you need packed and ready before you go. So be sure to come meet me, okay.”

With how he’d said it, it’s not like Yuma could say no. Not that he was going to argue himself out of it though, “Alright then, thanks.”

 “Also, as for your body’s condition.” Yuma looks at him straight in the eye then, it’s been a long time since they’ve talk about it aside from that one time where Replica had informed them about his body, “I’d find as much information as I can. Now that the war’s finished, I’ve gained some new connections. Guess it’s one of the good things about war.”

“Mu, if only there were more.” Yuma disagrees, even forming an x with his arms with his ever present duck face.

Raymond cracks a smile, “True. But that’s how it is for us. It would take a miracle before it could stop but I heard it’s peaceful over there. Where you’re going.”

Yuma shrugs, leaning back on his hands to look back up, “Yeah, well, I’ll know when I get there. Also you don’t need to gather any intel for me. I don’t know when I’ll come here again” _or if I ever could_ “So it would just be a waste of your time and effort also Replica and I are looking into it” _A lie_ “besides you should be concentrating on gathering more manpower.”

“I know but I’ll still try, it’s not like I’ll lose anything by doing it.”

Yuma exhales loudly, sagging a little bit, “Right. Don’t say  
I didn’t warn you though.”

“Alright, alright.” The older man laughs, reaching over to ruffle his hair before staring at him with a soft sad smile. He doesn’t let himself to think too much about it. “Yuma… I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Raymond leaves soon after with a command to come down for dinner, Yuma responds silently by lifting his hand and waving.

“I hope so too.” He whispers into his black trigger, “Because if I didn’t…“

Replica was silent throughout the night.

During that time, Yuma had helped with the repairs as much as he can even though Raymond had told him that he’d done enough. He’d spent some time with Vittarno and Izukacha because they kept cornering him and tagging him along their escapades, thankfully Raymond hadn’t caught them even once (Although Yuma knows that the older man was just turning a blind eye to them. Yuma spies his shadow in the corner of his eyes every now and then.)

And so three days had passed by fast and before Yuma even knew it, he was hopping from one world to another.

Yuma didn’t stay long in those worlds, only the necessary time needed for Replica to gather enough trion for him to generate a gate to pass through. When it gets too long, he finds other things to do.

Sometimes he watches soldiers train from the shadows, tries to imitate them when darkness falls and he’s safe to roam around. Other times he finds food he’d never eaten before in the stalls in the market, in the forest. Or, when he felt like it, he does mercenary work (Replica finds them the job and it’s Yuma choice whether he’d follow through) Sometimes, he tries to sneak into the gates the countries generate to get to another world, (it saves time and trion) it was easy to hide as long as it was a bamster they were transporting.

But most commonly than not, as he lies down on the branch of a tree, so high up that he could almost touch the sky (because there was no need for a room now was there? It would just be a waste of currency. Replica doesn’t try to convince him anymore as long as it’s safe. _It’s your choice_ , he says), he tries not to think of his father.

All these countries he’d been going to one after the other were all places he and his father had personally mapped on Replica’s memory bank and all it ever does for Yuma was relive the teachings his father had told him, his memories.

It was like chasing his footprints, only it never fades away and sometimes he forgets what he should be doing, too distracted from following the shadows his father had left behind.

Replica was there though and he always has something for Yuma to do. He never disappears from view now as if he knew exactly what was going on inside Yuma’s mind.

And maybe, Yuma thinks, he does. Yuma could run around acting as if he’d come around what happened years later (After all, others never saw through it all did they? What really goes through his mind after Yugo’s death) but there was no pretense with Replica.

Because that’s what Replica does. He sees things, observes, analyzes. Yuma was no exception. Or rather, that’s all Replica was now.

_‘I’m Yuma’s guardian.’_

Wasn’t that what Replica’s been calling himself nowadays? He’s been there for as long as Yuma could remember. An overseer to his father’s travels but to Yuma it was his life.

Replica probably had data on every little embarrassment he’d done in his life.

Like that one time when he was eight and he’d strayed away from his father undetected, he’d managed to get himself tangled with the wrong group and he’s taken quite the punch in the gut.

It was the very first time he’d felt such pain, it had literally taken all the air off his body. They’d managed to get another kick in before his father appeared and they’d all dropped like flies to the ground.

_‘You’re just rearing to go aren’t you, Yuma?’ Yugo laughs, crouching down to look at him eye to eye, “Well, there’s your Lesson number one. Don’t forget. Here, age doesn’t matter. Prey is prey. Don’t wander around just yet, yeah?’_

He remembers it was during that time that his training had gotten more vigorous.

With those memories, it’s how he got into the rhythm he has. During the day, he tries to find things to do; at night, he trains and only stops when Replica tells him to and as he lies down he closes his eyes and sleeps when he could (when his brain had been going on for so long that it gives him a massive headache)

And just like that, more or less a year later, he’d finally set foot on Japan’s soil.

“Well then.” He announces, grinning as he runs from the site and into the shadows of a ruined building. Behind him, the bamster he’d rode in inconspicuously starts to wreak havoc in the vicinity as it tries to find him. “Japan, was it? Let’s see what you got for me.”

He doesn’t know why but he suddenly feels excited after so long.

Maybe here, he could really find what he was looking for.

* * *

It had taken some time for Osamu to adjust but he’s older now. Tougher. These sudden bouts of pain had been integrated into his life that it’s almost as normal as breathing.

The pain comes in varying times. It could be as successive as every day or as long as a few months. He braces himself for it every time because pain is pain no matter what other people say. You feel what you feel; you couldn’t be numb to it.

He’d even gone to the point of writing it down each time it happens but these months though, he hasn’t felt anything and it was this very same thing that was keeping him up all night.

Osamu should feel relieved. The lack of activity from the other side and the unchanged color of his mark must mean that the other’s getting better, right? He keeps telling himself that but all it had given him was an itchy feel in his mind that it makes him want to pull his hair out of their roots.

When back then he’d look at his mark every morning and evening, now, he’d find himself looking at it every time he gets that it almost seemed obsessive, as his mother had said.

He let out an aggravated sigh out of his nose, around him the class was as rowdy as ever but Osamu doesn’t give it much thought as his hand reaches up to his shoulder again, worrying the skin around his mark.

The echoes had always been a reminder for him that his half was still out there, alive and fighting. Now that it’s been quiet for more than long enough, it almost feels like calm before the storm. Osamu couldn’t help but remember of the time when he was eleven years old.

Would it come to that again? He shudders every time he thinks that. That time was not the best of times.

But it doesn’t feel like that, though. He’s not as worried as he should be, just restless. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something _big_ was about to happen soon. He just hopes it’s not as bad as before.

So when the pain came as if he’s just bodily participated in a car crash test, he _almost_ feels relief. Instead, the pain forces him to close his eyes, square his shoulders and ask the very same question he asks when he feels the echoes.

_‘What happened this time? Be a good boy and stay in bed.’_

Osamu breaks out of his thoughts when a pencil case bounces off his head. He looks at it curiously and can’t help but compare the throbbing in his head to what he just felt but immediately erases the thought.

He brings the case to its rightful owner before sitting back down. He’d learned that ignoring bullies were the best way to either make them lose interest or fixate at you more intently but in these situations, it works.

Still, he doesn’t let that put his guard down as he feels the prickly glares on his back.

They lose interest just as quickly though and Osamu turns his attention outside the window when his ears pick up about the transfer student being a border agent.

He himself was part of border for almost four months now, and yet he still hadn’t gone past C-rank. In fact, if it wasn’t thanks to a certain _talented elite_ (As Yuuichi Jin would like to call himself), he never would have made it inside border.

 And he still wasn’t so sure about Neighbors.  The way Rinji had talked about them, it’s like there was something more than what Border was telling them.

In another thought, his research about his ex-tutor’s list was almost coming to an end. Sadly, they all yielded negative in his list of symptoms which was non-existent, considering that the pain comes in different parts of his body and most of the time it’s like a limb being cut off, there’s no such disease as limbs suddenly falling off, is there?

Thankfully, his training with intermediate first aid was going pretty well considering that he’s doing it by himself (he’s eternally grateful to the internet, especially YouTube) The summary Rinji had prepared for him before his disappearance had helped too but he’d learned to adjust it to his own liking.

Still, the way he was moving was unacceptable. He never had much time in the first place but now he’s in a standstill, yet again. Rinji helped him get out of that but now he’s gone.

He keeps turning his thoughts round and round. Thinking about what he should do now, what should his next step be?

_Border, Medicine, Rinji, Border, Medicine, Chika, Border, Medicine, Mark—_

His breakthrough comes in minutes later though, in the form of a short fifteen year old boy.

The rumored border agent.

_Yuma Kuga._ He says his name was.

He was an odd one with weird facial expressions, he easily caught attention with his appearance and attitude but the only thing that kept coming to Osamu’s mind was that,

_His eyes are red._

* * *

The events that transpired following an incredibly idiotic (Taking from his mom’s words) move of helping the transfer student who otherwise could have gotten away from there on his own unscathed, was so intense that it might have taken away his information processing abilities down to the lower levels because the next thing he remembers was the retreating back of a small, white-haired child moving along as if there wasn’t a car being towed in due to the damage it’s taken from crashing _right into_ _him_.

Going home, Osamu can’t help but think that that day must have been the most mind-blowing day he’d ever had. It could even compare to the event back when he was eleven years old. Which was idiotic, that was the definition of hell on earth, this day was not hell per se but definitely going to stay in his memory for years to come.

No matter, he made a mental note to write everything down on his notebook (It’s not a diary, mom!)

_One,_ The Neighbor world also consists of people, not just the monsters they fight.

  _ ~~Yuma Kuga is a neighbor who is not a neighbor~~ … He’s definitely a Neighbor. A bit violent but good. Flashy. Powerful. ~~Has red eyes~~. Troublesome but knows how to cooperate. ~~Seems to like hamburgers~~. Doesn’t know about money. ~~Must get him a wallet.~~ Has a trigger but not a border agent. His father (Dead?) may or may not be part of border. Japanese?_

_Two,_ Neighbors aren’t just toy soldiers that they fight to destroy. They serve a purpose. _Where did the name bamster come from? ~~Kuga probably made it up since it makes the sound ‘bam’ when it attacks.~~_

_Three,_ Border ( ~~is lying~~ ) concealing information about whom and what we’re fighting. _Kuga ( ~~doesn’t seem to know how to keep a secret)~~ is too trusting. No wonder, Rinji-san was skeptical to ask for help. ~~That or he’s more confident in himself than I thought.~~ Or… Was he planning _ that _way back then?_

_Four,_

Osamu stops. Remembering that one thing he’d been dodging for a while now.

He definitely felt it when that car hit Yuma head on. It was no imagination, it wasn’t his mind making it up with the memories of the very same pain he’d felt just this morning and the _real_ pain he’d felt when he too had fallen to the ground (from shock due to the pain or shock due to seeing a fatal incident right in front of him, he doesn’t know) definitely didn’t help to differentiate the two.

Coincidence, maybe? Kasumi didn’t believe in that and so did he.

Besides, Yuma’s body _repaired_ itself and the way his body had taken damage was like that of his trion body but were trion bodies that fragile? He’d seen fellow trainees smashing through walls but maybe cars were just that different afterall.

Osamu wasn’t able to ask if that was normal considering the situation. The guy just got hit by a car, _hard_. It seemed impudent to ask.

That and the fact that his mind was still boggled by the sudden turn of events.

Going by what he just saw though, was it fit to say that all humanoid Neighbors are like that? Even thinking about it, it seemed too good to be true.

Was immortality achieved by the Neighboring world? Or was Yuma a special case?

No matter, if there were humans in the Neighbor world, does that mean that not only the millions, billions of people here on earth does he have to look for the person with the same mark as his but also in the Neighbor world?

That’s just insane. It will be a long time before Osamu could set foot on another country; he’d be dust before he could go to another world.

How _did_ Yuma even jump worlds? A starship. Or maybe a magic portal? The way the world is now, it’s not that impossible considering that he had experienced it first hand with the use of a Border trigger.

Are people from that world and this world even the same? What did _their_ world even look like?

Judging by their very own visitor, Yuma was very much like a human. If not always battle ready and simplistic in his thinking.

_Where I’m from, it’s always considered normal to fight back._

No, it might even be said that the way he thinks was like that of back in the warring eras.

Osamu scratches his head a little too hard than he’d like before looking back down at his notes.

It would seem that he’d been a bit too fixated to comment about this newcomer.

He bangs his head on his desk hard maybe it could invoke amnesia and make him forget about this day. No, that won’t do.

Thankfully (or not), it only gave him a headache to go along with the massive headache he already has. He groans loudly just as the sound of her mother’s arrival reaches his ear.

_‘I forgot to take out the chicken from the freezer.’_

He groans harder and just barely manages not to hurt himself anymore. He grabs his pen immediately and writes down;

_Four,_ I may have found ( ~~my soulmate~~ ) a clue to finding my soulmate. _Must observe Yuma Kuga more. And remind him to stop when the light’s red!_

He may be able to dodge his mother’s silent wrath with this piece of information.

The next day comes with more excitement than before that he never had the time to ask about the things that were bugging his mind.

When Border attacked Yuma, it turned out he never needed to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got around hunting and reading world trigger fics but damn! Why are there so few! I mean I get why but it's still so disappointing :( 
> 
> I should probably start planning my ships now but ayy, a shipper's heart can't be controlled.
> 
> Does anyone of you know any more WT fics I could read? (Osayu, ofc) Even fanarts, please. I've already seen everything here in AO3 and ff.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so behind my bills, lol.
> 
> Hope you get some sort of entertainment in this trash chapter though. There may be some mistakes since I rushed this :) feel free to point them out to me. Thank you!

Osamu doesn’t know how he managed to survive the day. Setting aside his own matters was an easy task, especially when you were faced with an intimidating group of adults (also known as Border’s higher-ups), the Tamakoma base that seemed more like a homey house than a headquarters, Chika’s active interest in the neighbor world and the—

_This black trigger that Jin has, is Mogami Souichi._

_I see. This is him._

The subdued expression on Yuma’s face as he stares at Jin’s black trigger, gleaming dark and almost alive against the wooden surface.

Yuma, the very same guy with an easy-go-lucky attitude and an odd duck face, looked so lost in that moment. Osamu may have just known the red-eyed boy but from what he’d heard and seen, he has his suspicions.

But that wasn’t enough was it? Osamu could have as many suspicions as he’d like. He could keep wracking his brain with countless speculations but in the end they would still be just that. A deliberate answer for an unfathomable question.

In short, there was nothing he could do. He doesn’t even know what to say in fear that he may say something he’s not supposed to, after all, even though a lot had happened in the past four days; no matter how much Osamu feels like he’d known Yuma for years; they don’t know each other that well just yet. That and the fact that seeing such a face on his newly found soulmate was enough to stop him in his track. And that is why Osamu was forced to watch helplessly as Yuma declines their offer of protection and promptly gets out of the room.

The bed creaks as he stands up. It was already pretty dark out that the only thing he sees as he looks out the window was his own reflection. He looks tired and that isn’t even enough to show how chaotic his feelings were at that moment. He pulls at his collar and stares at his mark’s reflection. He lets a cold finger feel the bumps it makes on his skin before he finally turns away and falls back down the bed.

_So Kuga really is my…_

He shakes his head and lets out a deep sigh. The bed underneath him was soft if a little bit cold. Exactly like what he feels now.

There weren’t any warm fuzzy feelings in his stomach. There were no petals dancing around them. It wasn’t like anything other people tell it is. All there is was the very pain and fear and turmoil he’d felt from ever since he knew of their connection. All there is was this feeling in his stomach that tells him that something was very wrong.

And just like always, he doesn’t know anything.

He’d found the person he’d been agonizing endlessly for just his whole life, so what? Just because Osamu met him doesn’t mean that it would change anything.

Osamu still doesn’t understand anything, Chika is still helplessly lost, and Yuma is still being chased by the very same association that his father helped create.

The only thing he could rely on was the ache he feels with their connection. It was how he’d known that Yuma really was his other half, after all and it was all he had ever since he was a child so he knows at least that he could depend on. No matter how awful it may be.

That slice on Yuma’s neck, his sniped arm, the bullets that pierced his body. Osamu definitely felt them all in real time as if _he_ was the one fighting and if he could feel them shouldn’t Yuma feel them too? Wasn’t that how this connection, the echoes, supposed to work? Despite that, Yuma still didn’t look like he was in any pain, he’d just continued evading their attacks. But that wasn’t the real question now, was it?

_The question is why do I feel his pain even though he’s in his trion body? One that was even provided by his black trigger._

Osamu remembers the time when a car crashed into Yuma, the way his body oozed trion before fixing itself. Did that mean that Yuma was in his trion body this whole time? Can someone even use multiple triggers? Was Yuma even human?

Osamu pinches himself hard enough that he cries out.

Yuma _is_ human. It was evident from the way he’d reacted when he saw that black trigger. It was evident on the way he still craves food; on how he’d saved Osamu and Chika from both Border and trion soldiers alike and even worried about his position in Border.

_But what does this all mean?_

Just when he’d thought he was going in the right direction, something just had to happen to prove him how wrong he was. Every move he made were bad choices that puts him right back where he’d started.

Everything was happening a bit too fast that he couldn’t quite catch up emotionally and mentally.

Osamu’s right hand was permanently attached on his shoulder now that he could feel the burn all the way to his neck; he turns on his side and stares at the peeling paint on the wall, fiddling with the cold bed sheet to keep his hands away from his already inflamed skin.

He didn’t bring his balm today so he’ll just make do with some warm water… And maybe drink some too. He still feels cold, that dread he feels still hadn’t gone away and he doesn’t even know what exactly caused it.

Osamu buries his face in the cold sheets, a small relief for his headache. All this thinking was getting him nowhere. He wishes he had his notebook with him, it could help center his thoughts because right now everything was swirling in his mind like puzzle pieces just waiting to be fit together. If he could just write them down maybe he could arrange his thoughts better and finally see the bigger picture. Sadly, he left them at home. In the first place all he’d ever thought for today was introducing both of his friends and asking Yuma and Replica for help, he never thought that Border would make their move just as quickly. And now, he’d even added Chika in his ever growing list of mistaken choices.

Osamu sighs loudly and stands up but just as he was about to leave his room to ask Usami for some pen and papers, Replica floats from his usual place on Osamu’s pocket, taking command of his attention.

For a second, Osamu almost thinks that Yuma needed him for something until Replica finally starts talking.

He looks at the dark clone floating in front of his face, “Replica, is it really alright for you to be telling me this? Kuga…“ For the third time in not even a week, Osamu feels like fainting but at least, he finally got some answers. Some of the puzzle pieces were finally falling into place now.

“It is alright.” Replica reassures him, “Yuma does not care. He would have told you if you’d asked but I don’t think you would have under these circumstances. Also, he is on the rooftop talking to Jin about it.”

“I see, that is true.” He replies, flinching as he unconsciously rubbed his inflamed shoulder, “I wouldn’t know how to talk to him after seeing him like that. But giving him a goal in life is—“

“Please. It is my only request.” Even with a monotone voice, Replica could still sound desperate.

“Of course, I will!” Osamu practically rushes out, leaning so far into the little clone’s space that mini replica almost touched his nose, “I also want him to live just as much as you. Just give me some time.”

But Osamu can’t help but think how ironic it was. Here he was trying to think of a goal for the person who’d given him one in the first place.

“Take as much time as you need. I’ll keep him here in the mean time.”

“Thank you, Replica.”

 

X

Yuma listens as the door behind him closes with a loud clang before he turns his attention back to the scene before him. Down below, the dark water reflected the moon with an unsteady form; in the middle, various lights danced from different points in the city; and up above, stars peppered the night sky that they almost look ready to fall.

It was a beautiful place, really. Although not perfect, it was probably the most peaceful country he’d been into. He’d been here for not even a month and yet he’d already come across the most complex people he’d ever come across.

Osamu, Chika, Jin.

One was a suicidal, self-less guy who doesn’t know when to run when the situation asks for it; another was a kind girl who thinks that everything is her fault, and the last was someone who’d said he’d bet everything on him.

Jin, Yuma could understand in a sense. For someone who could see the future, he probably knows things before other people could even think about it. Trying to deduce what the other was planning is a futile attempt and a complete waste of effort. He doesn’t seem like a bad guy at least but something tells Yuma that Jin could also be very sly, taking from the cryptic way he talks. For people with such ability, he suppose it could really affect someone’s personality. He should know.

Chika… Somehow Yuma thinks that they were somewhat alike. Both finding a way to bring back people they love; only Chika still had a lot of options and Yuma already lost his before he could even start. If she’d only find the courage to fight like a certain someone, then she would find that she is only ever guilty for running away. But then again, for someone who’d lived her whole life in such a country and then adding her personality to the equation, Yuma could understand why she has that sort of mentality.

And then there’s Osamu. He’d never met a guy so stupid as to risk his own life for a stranger; even his brave father wasn’t so senseless as to charge into battle where he knows he’ll be done for.  And yet, Yuma still finds himself going after him, it almost seemed natural to help the stubborn guy that he didn’t even bother asking himself why he even cares. But more importantly, Yuma had never met someone who’s so true to himself.

Yuma turns as he hears the door behind him open again and stares at the tense outline of the current star of his thoughts.

“Kuga…”

 “Oh, Osamu.” The atmosphere around him was a bit different and Yuma watches with curious eyes as the dark-haired teen closes the distance between them. “What’s wrong?”

_‘Speak of the caring demon and he shall come.’_

In hindsight, Yuma should have expected what came soon after. Osamu only ever gets that sort of expression when he’s determined on doing something for someone else. To think that Replica had talked to someone about it without telling him first, not that he cared but it was a first and now even Chika is finally willing to take that first step.

It seems like everyone here knows what they want to do with their life and here he was. He really doesn’t belong here did he? And yet Osamu was willing to bring him into their little circle despite knowing that Yuma was a neighbor currently being pursued by the very same organization he wanted to bring Yuma into. He thinks back to the past days he’d been with them and wonders, would it really be alright?

_‘What do you intend to do from now on?’_

It wasn’t a hard question and the answer was readily at the tip of his tongue. This was his father’s homeland and he won’t spoil the place with his presence when he was the very reason why Yugo wouldn’t ever come back in the first place. If he’d stayed, he’d just be giving more trouble for Osamu. There was nothing he could do here and it was clear that he was not welcomed by most people on Border.

But then… Somehow, he really did enjoy his brief stay here. He wonders how it would be saying goodbye to them. Would it be any different from the other side?

There were no grand farewell parties or anything, there was no such thing in the neighbor world but the things Raymond had promised sure were. It consisted of two bags with one almost as large as Yuma that he’d almost rejected it until Replica had taken matters into his own mouth. As soon as the little trion soldier had generated the gate, he’d bid them farewell and was into another world before he could even blink.

That’s how farewells were in the neighborhood. People came and went like clouds in the sky. Constant war had thought them that death was normal, fighting to survive was normal. Children from the other side was taught that in an early age and they understood that, Yuma thinks so himself until the day he’d lost his father.

He understands death. He understands farewells. What Yuma doesn’t understand was why his father died for him.

Didn’t that go against everything Yugo had taught him? It was Yuma’s fault and so he should pay the price even if it’s with his life.

The smile on his father’s figure, it stayed seared against his memories long after it had crumbled to dust.

Yuma doesn’t know why he tells Osamu this. He didn’t even tell Replica, but the words were out of his mouth before he even knows it.

“What pushes you to risk your life to help people?” Yuma asks, keeping a watchful eye as he tries to discern his expression, “Is it because it’s in your nature to not overlook people in need?”

Osamu looks a bit troubled by his question but Yuma doesn’t take it back. He just wanted to understand. His father and Osamu.

Osamu hesitates a bit, his eyes glued to the dusty floor. “…It’s not like that, it’s—I…”Yuma watches his hand, trembling faintly as it reaches up his right shoulder. “It’s simply something I thought I should do so. When the time came where I had no choice but to really fight then I’d definitely run away… I know it. I’ve been a coward once and it didn’t do me or anyone else any good at all. It didn’t even happen to me directly and yet there I was locking myself in my room and wallowing in self-pity... “

Yuma stayed rooted in his spot, staring a little transfixed on the hunched form of his companion. His trembling had stopped, replaced by a white-knuckled grip on his shoulder. It looks painful but Yuma focuses his attention on those fierce green eyes.

“In my opinion, this is how humans are. I didn’t like what I was then and I swore I would never be like that _ever_ again so I’ll keep pushing through like he does.” Osamu finally lets go of his shoulder with a hiss before turning to Yuma, his voice a little stronger now, “That’s why I don’t do anything for others. I do it for my sake.”

“I see. That’s so like you. Still, you’ll eventually end up dead when you don’t run when things are bad. Running away is also part of fighting.”

Osamu groans in shame beside him, lifting the sides of Yuma’s lips into a grin as he turns on his seat to stand up. He still doesn’t understand this green-eyed guy truly but well, there was no hurry. After all, Yuma had already made up his mind. Osamu was such a troublesome busybody that Yuma was sure there will never be a boring moment.

“Hm, Well then. I guess I’ll help with all this huh.” He says instead, “It seems that if I leave you and Chika alone, you’ll die right away. I’m looking forward to the time when the team is formed.”

“Kuga!”Judging by the expression on his face, Osamu couldn’t seem to believe that he’d accepted but he smiles just as wide soon after even standing up and giving him a perfect ninety degree bow. “Thank you! We’ll be in your care from now on.”

“Same here. Same here.” Yuma bows back, “Damn, I almost forgot how polite you people are.” He hikes up an inquisitive brow as soon as Osamu raises his head to look at him, “But really, was Chika’s brother really that good?”

“Huh?” Osamu asks a little perplexed as he straightens up, “Why are you asking that now?”

“Hm? Isn’t he the one you were talking about just now? When you said you’d push through ‘just like him’. No wait, could it be? You and Rinji-san… Are you two dating?!” Osamu frowns magnificently even as his face takes a deep shade of red.

“No! You’re way out of line!” Yuma slowly inches away as Osamu’s hands starts to flail around in his embarrassment. Yuma barely manages to hide the smile pushing on his lips. “Rinji-san is my tutor! _Just_ my tutor! A-and a friend. But that’s all! How can you even—“

“What? So I was wrong again?” Yuma purses his lips as he mutters, “It’s a guy, right? So it’s definitely not Chika… Then Jin-san? Or maybe Yotaro? No, you just met him today. How about Arashiyama-san? Yotsuya? Miyoshi? Ow!”

“Stop pairing me up with everyone!” Osamu practically shouts in his ear.

“Who was it again that said I was too violent the first day we met?” Yuma grumbles, cradling the ear that just met Osamu’s wrath.

“You be quiet!” Osamu says sternly already reaching out for his right ear. Yuma blocks it with his hand effortlessly.

“But really Osamu, who is it?” Yuma asks persistently, trailing behind him.

“You don’t need to concern yourself with it.” The taller male merely replies already reaching for the door handle.

“Hmph, fine. I’ll find out one way or another.”

Osamu pauses on the doorway and Yuma almost thinks that he’d gone too far teasing him before Osamu finally glances at him over his shoulder, a small barely there smile hidden in the corner of his lips, “I’m looking forward to it then.”

_‘Now what exactly does that mean?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in a little bit of a bind for the next chapter. Mu.  
> Any suggestions are welcome. Please.
> 
> I totally glossed over the scene with Chika and Yuma. ugh. I totally forgot. That's a waste of material ryt der.


End file.
